Before she can answer, though, my gaze snags on the man in leather making a beeline for my grandmother.
“Hello, beautiful angel. I’m Rod, and I wanted to personally see if there’s anything at all you need tonight,” he says to her.
Afraid of nothing, Coco eyes him up and down. “What could you offer me, Rodney?”
“A drink on the house? A lap dance? A scintillating conversation with this strip club mogul?”
“I’ll take door number three.” She rises and hands her iPad to TJ so she can join the owner for a drink.
I turn to my friend, but before I can say a word, he waves me off. “Go. I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”
Bellamy lifts a finger. “Jones, the fireman with the long, hot hose,” she tells TJ. “Go for it.”
He just laughs. “We’ll see.”
“Coco will be my eyes and ears,” Bellamy says, but I’m not so sure she will. Or that TJ will do a damn thing about the dare.
And right now, I don’t fucking care.
I’m leaving with my woman.
That’s who she is for tonight because that’s all I’ll allow.
37
Good Things Come
Bellamy’s hands rope around my neck the second we slide into the cab. “I can’t wait,” she says.
“But good things come to those who do,” I murmur against those lush lips.
Yet when she hauls me close, waiting seems damn near impossible.
Then, it feels like scaling Everest as she sucks on my bottom lip and spears her tongue in my mouth. Bellamy takes over my entire brain, the kiss crackling through my nervous system.
When she grabs my hand and slams it between her thighs, my staunch control snaps. A groan rips from my chest as I palm her through her jeans, the heat from her center short-circuiting all sense of decorum.
But I don’t want anyone else privy to what we do.
“Need to get you alone, sweetheart,” I rasp, finding the willpower to end the kiss.
She whimpers. “Tease. You terrible, awful tease.”
“But teasing can be fun,” I say.
A shiver washes over her. “And edging.”
Oh, hello, brilliant idea. “Is that your happy place, Bellamy?”
With a drag of her teeth along her red lips, she gives a coy shrug. “Find out.”
Fast forward ten minutes, and I slam the door to her place, back her up to it, and shove my hand down her jeans.
She unleashes a throaty groan that makes my dick as hard as a fire pole. Her hands push the denim to her thighs, giving me room to stroke her wet center, her slickness welcoming my fingers.
Her mouth invites me back, too, as she parts her lips and begs with words and deeds, “Please kiss me.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” I tell her, then I tease the fuck out of her mouth as I tend to her pussy.
With a slow, tantalizing sweep of my lips, I kiss her while I rub circles on the delicious rise of her clit—dizzying circles, judging by the way she rocks and moans.
And by her nails, too, digging into my shoulders.
Bellamy’s always been a sensual woman, deeply in tune with her body, but tonight she’s vibrating at a heightened level of desire.
Her cries tell me she’s not far off.
Her fevered kisses turn sloppier, and that’s a signal too.
And so’s this—my fingers are coated in her wetness as I thrust two inside her.
“Oh God,” she gasps, clawing at my shoulders like she’s holding on for life.
My dick thumps against my jeans, desperate to get in on the action.
But it’s time for a pause.
I wrench away, draw my hand from her thighs, then suck her off my fingers, savoring the taste of her almost climax.
“You clit tease.” She pouts, her brow creasing as if she’s in pain.
“You asked to be taunted, sweetheart.”
With a shudder, she slides her hands down my chest, then palms my bulge. “You like it too.”
“Fucking love it,” I say. A minute later, she’s perched on the couch, her jeans are off, and I’m kneeling between her legs.
Yes.
This is my happy place, indeed.
I indulge in her sweet pussy, lapping and kissing as she grabs at my hair, clutches my skull. Her back arches and her hips shoot off the cushion as she fucks my face with utter abandon.
Always a fearless lover, tonight she’s even more so. She’s louder, hungrier, and completely unabashed as she holds me close and rocks feverishly against my mouth. She’s ridiculously wet, her arousal coating my jaw, my chin, my whole damn face. My cock pleads to come out to play.
But all in due time.
I’ve got my woman to take care of.
And when she lets out a desperate cry of impending bliss, I execute the cruelest torture.
I just plain quit my sensual assault.
“Fuck you, Easton,” she mutters.
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
I yank her up, unzip my pants, and bend her over the back of the couch.
Grabbing a condom from my wallet, I cover up quickly, then hike up her hips. She’s so determined to come that she’s already playing with herself.
I shake my head, admonishing her as I tug her hand away from her clit. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
She lifts her ass higher. “Then get in me and make me come.”
“I’ll make you come and then come again,” I say as I sink inside.
Lust torpedoes every cell in my body, and I waste no time. I fuck her hard and deep, one hand curled mercilessly tight around her hip, the other stroking her clit.
With a bow of her back, she lets loose the hottest groan I’ve ever heard, then detonates with a gloriously sexy cry.
I don’t let up. I don’t miss a beat even as electricity crackles in my bones from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
I push harder, fuck deeper, determined to give her an encore.
Soon enough, we’re both sweating and groaning, our flesh slapping together as I seek the edge for her one more time.
Then, she comes again, with an orgasm that seems to both wrack her body and wreck me.
Seconds later, I am spent.
Completely wrung out from all these blissful feelings—the sexual ones and the ones I didn’t expect.
The ones from deep in my chest that tell me to keep her close.
Hold her tight.
All night long and then some.
Later, we’re in her bed reviewing Coco’s pros and cons list, then laughing at TJ’s text—a simple white flag. No idea if that means he scored with Jack or didn’t. We chuckle too, at Nolan’s note saying he’s got TJ’s place to himself so far.
And so far, I’ve had this woman all to myself. Bet or no bet, I don’t want that to change. Maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe I can pull this off for a little longer.
I set down the phone. “Do you like musicals?”
“What do you think?”
Of course she’d answer a question with a question. Of course she’ll expect me to know the correct answer. “That you like excellent listeners,” I say, thinking of her pros and cons from earlier.
She shifts in my arms, shooting me a curious look. “What do you mean?”